Platinum Dream
by Black 13 Productions
Summary: -Rewrite- The ancient Winglies have a story about a dragoness and a Wingly warrior, destined to become either enemies or allies. Which will they choose? LloydxOC
1. Introduction

**Platinum Dream**

**Introduction**

** A**s written by a traveling human scholar approximately seven hundred years after the Moon Incident to document the Wingly culture, long after the veils were taken down and trade opened between the worlds:

_The ancient Winglies once told a story._

_The Wingly people always do tell the most influential of stories. These tales are so moving, it is hard not to listen to the old ones as they quite literally weave their magic threads around in the air about them. They create illusions like I have never seen anyone create, mastering what magic they still possess to illustrate their own stories like an animated picture book._

_ To listen to those old singsong voices and to see everything they speak is truly a sight. They speak of the time when the veils and shields were removed, when Wingly and human came together to share their lives in peace. Trade opened up and many of the Wingly cities what had fallen during the Dragon Campaign were repaired and raised back into the sky to be turned into floating markets by the Emperor of the time, Lloyd._

_ He is quite the unique figure for storytelling, a man with such a will that he even went against his own deigned fate to see his people merged together with the rest of the world. However, it was more of his life before he was Emperor what makes it so interesting to listen to._

_ The story behind him and his life usually starts like this:_

_ Before Winglies started their conquest for Endiness in the Dragon Campaign, the Creator God Soa made dragons from the Tree of Life. These were the first lineage, a race of creatures so substantially powerful that to look on one in any form it took struck awe and fear into the hearts of all. However, despite their fearsome appearances, when the rest of the races were born, the first lineage dragons did their best to help those younger races grow and learn. They were very wise, kind, and pure, much unlike the lineages what followed them. _

_And above all, they were beautiful._

_ So beautiful that Soa felt jealous and cursed the race shortly after the last of the Life Fruits had fallen. They were stricken with a megalomaniacal madness so that they hated all the people they had tried to help. Many fled to only Soa knows where to keep their sudden want to kill the younger races and soon, the first lineage had disappeared completely._

_ All except for one, a pretty young dragoness with the mark of the madness on her skin. She stayed behind and tried to carry out the illness what plagued her and her people. She attacked villages of humans and Winglies alike, killing many of the young races. The Winglies called her Ubentou Myivit, the Mad Dragon, and a fitting title indeed._

_ The humans were left vulnerable, without much physical strength or magical power. It was up to the Winglies to keep this weak race alive and so they created a champion. A young Wingly man was brought forth to stop the raging creature and he ran her through with his sword, an enchanted blade what could sap the power of the dragoness and render her mortal._

_ She cursed her slayer's own bloodline with being charged in having to kill her incarnations if she deemed the world too unworthy or unfit. When she saw of this, she would raze the world to the ground, bringing her brethren back into existence. And with that, she fell dead._

_ As was told, the malicious spirit of this dragoness followed her bloodline and to this day, a Toriv Wikanye –or Wingly Hero- is chosen to protect the world from this horrific fate. While this tradition is still followed, there is no more Ubentou Myivit to live on as far as is known. The very last one known to date was once the wife of the Emperor who changed the world, Saiyjone._

_ The elders are speaking now, weaving the very same tale of how it was their most influential leader came to being and the hardships he really faced. I have been told this particular story is a good classic..._

_

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Disclaimer: Legend of Dragoon is copyright to Sony Computer Entertainment in the year 1999-2001. We do not own any of the characters, places, events, etc. from the game, though we do own several of our own original characters. Please ask permission before you use them, if you use them.

Thank you.

**Black 13 Productions**


	2. The Oracle at the Border

**A/N** : I know that a few of the names are going to throw people off, Hence, here's a pronunciation guide to quite a bit of the names.

1)** Rivet** – _Rye-vit_

2) **Zevahn **– _Zee-von_

3) **Ankou ** -- _An-koh_

4) **Saiyjone **– _Sai-yeh-jhohn_

Hopefully, that'll clear up quite a few issues. A lot of our stuff, we've noticed, people send emails to us wondering how to pronounce some of the names. We decided in this one to help clear that up beforehand.

**Thank you for your time**

**~Black 13 Productions~**

* * *

**Chapter 1**

**M**orning came to the lands of Endiness. It touched everything with a hand like Midas, giving the world and all its inhabitants a sort of unearthly golden sheen. From the lands far east of the continent to the very tip of even the snowfield country Gloriano, the sun took away the night to envelope all in warmth and radiance.

Somewhere in southern Tiberoa, just north of the border into the southern half of Serdio, it unearthed in the canyon walls a small camp what had lied hidden in the evening and night before. A tent made of some form of tough dark blue material was set up between a fine carriage and a small fire pit with dead and dying embers. Tethered nearby, two pairs of perfectly identical mahogany-colored horses were grazing on the scarce vegetation what grew in patches amongst the bare sandy ground, listening to the hubbub going on in the camp.

Three people, all men, were up and about at sunrise. Two were packing supplies and pulling the tent down, beginning to turn to fetch the horses. The third was out in the countryside, looking around anxiously for something. The horses knew what he was looking for and where it went, but as horses are unable to speak in human tongues without the help of magic, they merely finished chewing the tough weeds they were pulling from the ground and went peacefully with their handlers to be hooked to the carriage.

Finally, a shout was raised from the one searching, standing on a rise nearby and waving a hand to his companions. One of the two hitching the horses went to see what it was that his companion had found, coming up over the rise to spy a small clear pool of water in a valley between three other small hills. It was here that they found what they were looking for.

The pool was not very large, but the water was clean, without a doubt cool but not cold. The sandy bottom beneath it was a grayish tan color, much lighter than the darker brown sands and hard-packed dirt around it. A few small scraggly bushes hung around the banks in patches, a single half-dead tree on the opposing bank from where the two men stood. Small fish swam through the water of the pond, curious about the figure lying on the bank closest to the intruders.

It was a woman. Lovely thing, she was, only five feet three inches tall with pale skin on a slender form and framed by cascades of hair like spun gold what fell to at least her ankles, if not barely brushed the ground. The tresses were never bound up, instead left free as Soa had intended. She was offset by a pair of amethyst purple eyes, the pupils replaced with swirling galaxies of brilliant red and green and gold specks, an odd trait that told others of her inhuman nature. Her ears were elongated just slightly and pointed at the very tops of the lobes, slightly elvish in appearance and pierced with a variety of gold and silver studs and loops. Her fingers and wrists were also encased in bangles and rings, though the most prominent pieces of jewelry set to her frame had to have been the seemingly decorative shackles wrought in silver and engraved with symbols and characters of the old Wingly language. These clasped her wrists and ankles, as well as a thin collar of the same material welded about her throat. It was almost as if she was held captive by something ethereal, for the holes that would have held a tether were left bare and empty. Her long sinuous form was covered in silks and satins in silvers and white, hemmed in detailed illustrations highlighted by gold leaf telling of the Creation and the legends that surrounded it, robes that both flowed yet clung to every curve of her body. White satin low-top shoes with flat soles covered her dainty feet from the elements, complimented with the same gold leaf in ornate swirls. A shawl of the same color and fabric as the robes and a veil of creamy sheer material were set nearby as though dropped there carelessly. Typically, she wore them over her shoulders and head to hide the ivory horn stubs that rested just behind her ears as well as her eyes from public view.

She was lying on her side, supporting her head with one arm, letting her free hand dangle lightly in the still clear waters of the pool. Her fingertips barely touched the surface of the water and she seemed to take relish in feeling the fish who had come to investigate her slide by her skin, to feel the slick shimmering scales as they came curiously forward, brushed by, and then darted off again. She caught sight of the reflections of at least two of her companions in the smooth surface, waiting until the fish darted off in a panic before sitting up.

"The sunrise shone red this morning."

She sounded almost pleased about it, really. It was frightening how calm she relayed something like that, though one might have guessed that secretly, she revelled in the idea that at least one of her companions cringed at the mention of a red sunrise.

"What does this mean, My Lady?" one of them asked her, particularly the one that was not cringing.

"It means there will be hostilities, whether we are delayed or not. It also showed gold; there will be a great secret revealed as well. Given that the red was first to touch the horizon, I suggest we wait a while before meeting with Doel. We may be walking into our own deaths if we meet with him as early as he expects us to."

The pair bowed to her, the one who spoke before replying now as well. "As you wish, My Lady. Where would you like to tarry then? There are many places we can go as we will be crossing the border soon."

She allowed herself to be helped up by the one who had yet to speak. "Lohan is having a competition this time of year. Is that correct, Rivet?"

Rivet had gone to collect her shawl and veil, carefully setting the shawl so that it was tucked easily but sturdily into the cuff around her throat and draped properly across her shoulders as well as covered the back of her head to right behind her ears. "Ah yes. The Hero Competition. I hear they are afraid there will be few competitors this year, however. What with the civil war they are in the middle of, they fear the routes being closed off will prohibit many people from coming." he answered her, carefully setting the veil over the top of her head to hide her eyes appropriately. It was made so that none could see her eyes, but she could see perfectly fine through it.

Her lightly colored lips curled up a bit in a soft smile. "Perhaps that is where our discovery is to be? Unless it comes suddenly in the middle of the road ahead." She laughed then, a melodious yet haunting sound, allowing Rivet and his companion to help her back to the carriage that was packed and waiting at the ready for her.

Painted flawlessly white, ornately carved by an expert hand, with shining accents in what looked to be pure silver, the carriage was a sight to be seen. Delicate but detailed dark wooden dragons held the corners, lined and accented in silver and gold with hints of ivory paint and mother-of-pearl, holding in their mouths glass oil lanterns encased in sturdy wrought iron. These were unlit now, but would be lit by evening. The windows of the cab were thick glass, dark red heavy brocaded curtains covering them to keep those outside from seeing in. Already up front, their driver held the reigns for their team of four sturdy well-bred horses, bowing his head respectfully to the lady as she was helped into the confines of the cab. It was well furnished in shades of red and purple in soft and smooth fabrics of all sorts.

Once inside, Rivet called to the driver to go before jumping in. The doors were locked as the carriage started to move, lurching forward once before continuing smoothly afterwards. Silence passed between the inhabitants of the cab, the low rumble and creak of the carriage along the dusty dirt road and the clatter of the horses' hooves the only things that filled the air with sound at all. It gave the woman a chance to look over her escorts there in the cab with her.

Rivet and Zevahn were fraternal twin brothers. Both were of Wingly descent, sporting the genetic trademark white-silver hair cut in the same uneven layers at about their mid-throats, though their eyes told who was who. Rivet's were of a darker brownish almost black hue, Zevahn's holding a more pumpkin-spice orange sheen. They weren't incredibly tall, standing at about five feet and seven inches, but they were built like typical Winglies; aerodynamic, made for flight. They were both wearing the uniform they wore outside the shrine on the summit of their mountain in Mille Seseau what overlooked the entire countryside, when they acted as her escorts. Black leather was fitted to their lithe frames and studded in silver with white braided ropes extending from their left shoulders to the right side of their stiffened raised collars and held at their ends via brass buttons. Black leather boots and belts were polished to an obsessive shine with black gloves set upon their slender yet able hands. They looked very military and every bit proper Winglies when in these uniforms. At their waists rested their standard broadswords, simple weapons but well-cared for and also well-made. They were truly formidable guards, and she loved them like her own brothers, even if they didn't see her in the same way…

"Crossing the border!"

The carriage driver's voice rose up from the front. Zevahn looked up before standing and moving one of the curtains aside. He opened the window and then called back, "At the crossroads, go to Lohan."

"I hear ya." was called back to them before the window was closed again and Zevahn resumed his seat.

"We should be in Lohan before nightfall, My Lady." Rivet stated then. "The Competition takes place on the morrow, so we should stay in the hotel there."

The dragon-maid nodded lightly. "When it is all over, we should buy a few supplies before heading out to Kazas. If I know that human who calls himself Emperor, then he will not rest until we come rolling in."

A nod was shared between the brothers and the cab once more fell to silence.

Once they reached the crossroads in question, the carriage slowed to a crawl, then a stop. A confused expression crossed the faces of the twin Winglies, Rivet rising to stand. Zevahn raised a hand to his brother, telling him to halt as he moved aside the curtain next to him. His face grew dark as he saw what was coming up the road.

"Doel was expecting us." he said, his tone as dark as his expression. "There are troops coming up the way from the Hellena-Kazas direction and I highly doubt they are soldiers of Serdio, regardless of where we are currently. Last I looked, Albert didn't fly the darker colors."

Rivet's face fell to a mildly frustrated expression. "How far away?"

"Just coming over the horizon. They're on horseback, given their dust and speed." was his answer.

He thought a moment before those darker eyes of his lit up all of a sudden. "I'll meet you guys in Lohan. Lock the door behind me and do not open it until Ankou tells you otherwise. Got it?"

The dragon looked up at him. "Rivet. Don't do anything rash and come back to me." Her mouth twisted upward some into a small smile. "Soa only knows how hard you would be to replace, one of my better escorts and friends."

The Wingly winked at her as he unlocked the door and stepped out of it to the ground. "Don't worry, My Lady Saiyjone. I'll be just fine. After all, I have the best of my lineage in me. I'll just make myself scarce and see to it that they do not head to Lohan. We should be far enough away from them for their human eyes to be unable to see us and knowing Doel, he has given specific orders to go straight into Tiberoa to try and escort us back."

With the prospect of causing havoc, it seemed the young Wingly had lost all formalities. However, it did not faze the dragoness. She nodded to him. "Very well."

With that, she closed the door to the cab and locked it. She heard Rivet talking to the driver, felt the typical jolt of the carriage moving again, and sat down as it took off for Lohan.

"Do not worry about my brother, My Lady." Zevahn told her. "He knows what he is doing."

"I know he does, it just worries me." The dragoness smirked a tiny bit. "And my faith in Doel has fallen as his in me seems to have done the same."

The horses were run to the limit of near death on normal horses (this particular team was barely panting and still raring to run) before they reached Lohan at mid-afternoon. She felt the carriage slow down, looked up as Zevahn stood up and made to unlock the doors.

She reached forward to stop the Wingly's advance. He looked at her inquisitively.

"Remember Rivet's words. Wait until Ankou has said it is alright." Saiyjone told him, receiving a small sheepish nod of his head as he resumed his seat.

Ankou, the driver, had slid off his seat and run passed the carriage on one side, disappearing a moment. Both dragon and Wingly passenger fell into an uneasy silence. Even though she seemed as calm as the water of the pond that morning, Zevahn knew that deep inside, his Lady Dragon was as nervous as he was.

It felt an eternity before Ankou returned to the carriage and knocked on Zevahn's window. Being the old man that Ankou was, his silent approach and return had startled the young guardian to jump. Saiyjone would never admit to it, but his knocking made her own heart quicken just slightly in a show of surprise.

Once he was calmed again, Zevahn held the curtain back cautiously to look at the driver. With a simple hand gesture, he was told it was safe. A nod was relayed to the dragoness and the door was unlocked. Ankou opened it and popped his head into the lavish cab.

"I just spoke with the scout. He says they headed for Tiberoa, as he expected." he said.

She nodded. "And Rivet is where now?"

"He is already in town, My Lady Dragon, checking out a room at the inn for you." the driver answered.

"Thank you, Ankou. We will get out here. Please find a place for the carriage and see that the horses are well rested. I will notify either of my guards to let you know when to get it ready again."

The old driver backed up and offered her his hand for support as she made her way toward the door. She took it and exited, noting they had stopped hidden behind the stables just within the gates of the commercial city, as he asked, "Is there anything you would like for me to do once this task is fulfilled?"

She shook her head, standing in the dusty road. It made for a startling contrast; something as pure-looking as the dragoness with grime and dirt behind her. "Outside of help Rivet with the luggage to the room, your time is done with as you please until I require you again. But be ready to go at a second's notice; we don't want to be caught off-guard should we have to move suddenly." she told her driver.

Zevahn exited the carriage and took his spot behind her and to her left, his usual position, as Ankou smiled. "Thank you, My Lady. I shall make certain I am ready for your next move."

She returned his smile, a charmingly disarming sort of smile. Ankou knew that smile had melted hearts and bent wills to her needs and wants. He also knew that unless given to someone close, that smile was very fake. He prided himself in knowing he was one of those few held close to her. After all, his well-bred special horses helped her travel the world in a much shorter time than if the horses had been 'normal'.

Rivet returned then, popping up seemingly from nowhere behind Ankou as the old driver released the dragoness' hand. "So I got us a room at the inn." the young Wingly started, startling the odd old human. He looked surprised at the elder as though he had not expected such a reaction. Granted, Rivet was also feigning the innocence he showed then. This much, his three companions knew, since he did this so often.

Once Ankou had calmed enough, Rivet continued, handing a small key to his brother. "Here's the key. Also, the innkeeper was muttering something about more silver-haired boys."

Zevahn quirked one brow. "Are we suspecting there are more Winglies than just us here?" he asked as he tucked the key into one of his jacket's pockets, his voice low in volume.

His twin shrugged. "Could be, but I've met my share of silver-haired young humans, as well."

"Just keep an eye out." Saiyjone spoke up suddenly. "Do not forget that though most humans do not believe we as legends exist does not mean that we do not."

Zevahn nodded. "A good point, My Lady. Shall we retire for the night? We have had a long journey. You must be tired."

The other three knew what he was doing; someone was listening who should not have been listening. Chances were it was just a human, curious as to the clean newcomers, but no chances were taken in the case of it being something (or someone) else what could cause harm with any information obtained. It was the twins' way of stating that any further discussions should be made in private and Saiyjone had her own lines to give then to complete the ruse.

"Yes we shall." was said simply, Zevahn relaying the orders of luggage-carrying to his twin (who put up a small joking fuss over it at first, but went to do the given task regardless) before he and his charge made their way to the inn.

They were both headed up the stairs toward where the inn rested when something caught her veiled eye from the corner of it. It was something … unusual, just enough out of the ordinary to raise curiosity. When she felt a gaze on her, she paused just briefly and turned her head.

That was when she saw him and the mark at the fore of her throat, beneath the silver collar, began to burn.

* * *

The way the city of Lohan was set up, the U-shaped main building held a variety of the more permanent shops above the main open-air market on the ground below. At the bowl of the U was the inn, set above the main thoroughfare below and slightly higher than the rest of the shops in the building.

There were several small flights of stairs leading up both sides of the structure, leading from one shop to another on each landing between. The longest and most prominent landing was, of course, the inn at the end.

Lloyd had come to Lohan for a reason only he was aware of. Leading the kings of two countries against one another as well as keeping the head warden of the prison under control took quite the toll on one's patience. Especially the latter; in his opinion, Freugel was a loose cannon what needed to be contained.

Lloyd had told Doel how and when to strike while leading Albert around in circles. He hated them both, but Albert had something he wanted. No. Something he _needed_. He was also easily manipulated. As a matter of fact, Doel was just as easy to manipulate, though more to the fact that he was power-drunk.

Something had unnerved the Wingly, however. That man in red armor had come unexpectedly into the picture and started tangling the carefully woven threads that Lloyd had placed and played with the utmost of care. Under the pretense of taking a respite, he had ordered Doel to move and capture both Indels Castle and Albert. So far as he knew, this would be carried out and the result would be as expected; Bale would fall and Albert would be in his hands then.

In the meantime, he wanted to test the strength of this new opponent, the man in red. He'd followed the reports of him being in Lohan. If he knew the type of person the red one was, he would enter the Endiness Hero Competition. So, naturally, Lloyd himself had signed up as well. He was confident in his abilities to eventually meet the man in red armor in combat (even if it was fake fighting), if not observe him. It gave him a chance to see his strength and strategy.

The Competition was the following day from the morning Lloyd rode into Lohan. He checked into the inn there, noticing the look the innkeeper gave him.

Suspicion...

How he hated that look, but he still went on his way with a pleasant wave and smile. A wink to the innkeeper's young daughter was added, just for shits and giggles, revelling in the deep blush the little human gifted him with as a response. Once he had dropped the meager belongings he had brought with him in his room, he had decided to explore a little.

Though he had been to Lohan many times, the way the merchant city was run was like never being in the same place twice. Shops came and went and even moved amongst themselves. After his exploring of all the new stores and booths about, he was delighted to know his favored tavern had not even moved.

Sure, it was run by humans, but they liked his company. Whenever he was in town, he made sure to visit. They always greeted him with smiling faces and kind words and he knew these were not mere facades.

He spent the remainder of the afternoon with them, heading back up the stairs to the inn in higher spirits that evening. That was when he caught sight of it.

It was on the stairs on the other side of the U with the drop to the main avenue below between them. Something white. Pure. His steps slowed, his head turned to try to glimpse it. It was there, clear as day in the evening sun.

A woman, apparently of high status. She was also making her way up the stairs, presumably toward the inn as well. He couldn't see most of her face, namely the upper half due to a veil over it. He thought it odd that she should be walking alone, especially if that veil were there to obscure her sight or hide the fact that she could not see (assuming this latter was the truth).

He then wondered why a veil. So far as he could tell, she was beautiful beyond words, a sort of ethereal beauty. He caught her stop, every motion of hers smooth and fluid. It was almost like she was born of the air, the way she moved. Her head turned and he felt eyes.

Eyes on him. From her, nonetheless, this in turn dispelling the initial accusation of her being blind at all. It was a strangely warm feeling, something he had never felt before. And then another question was raised; what was she? It was obvious in the feeling of that one glance that she was not human, in the slightest.

He tried locking his eyes into her hidden ones ... before he caught movement behind her. So she wasn't alone, was she?

Lloyd's brow furrowed slightly as he noticed her companion carefully nudging her along. Was that a Wingly? Well, it was good to know he wasn't the only silver-haired man in town, or outside the oppressive holes the other surviving Winglies hid themselves in. It wasn't any wonder they were so close to extinction.

Soon, the woman and her companion were gone, merged somehow into the crowds moving along the stairs between the ground below and the shops above. How he'd managed to lose her was a mystery to him, she was so unusual that it took some doing to lose sight of her. Inwardly, he cursed himself for getting distracted and letting her escape.

Lloyd had started back toward the inn when movement caught his eye once more. He looked over, somehow hoping it was that woman again. Instead, it was that Wingly again... No, this one was slightly different. He was carrying several bags up toward the inn, followed by a middle-aged human man with grey streaks in his otherwise dark hair. He was carrying luggage as well, following the young Wingly. The sight made Lloyd smile a bit; humans and Winglies working together toward even a simple common goal like that and not fighting for the other's blood was something he strove for in that world. It needed such a change...

He noted that the pair of them were joking back and forth, making a playful fuss over this and that. When the Wingly dropped something on accident from his pile, the older human bent down with a strangely unerring grace to pick it up and run after him. Lloyd tuned his fairly impressive hearing toward whatever was being said, tuning out everything else. It was a trick he had learned in his travels as a rogue Wingly, and a useful one it proved to be.

"Rivet! You dropped something!" the old human called after him.

The Wingly turned his head around, a strangely goofy grin on his face. "Oh thanks! Where would I be without your old eyes behind me, hm?" he replied, plucking the small bag he had missed from his companion's hands and plopping it carefully between his chest and the rest of the bags he was carrying across his outstretched arms. "Soa only knows how much the Lady would be upset if I lost her throwing stones."

The human chuckled. "Much welcome, Rivy. We both know what'd happen then, as well. I prefer not to see her upset."

"Neither here, _Anky_." The name given the elder human was said almost obnoxiously, Rivet obviously hating the nickname bestowed on himself and retorting back with words. The two began again and moved out of range of Lloyd's ears.

So… She was an oracle, was she? Those were hard to find, particularly after the massacre of them by the Wingly dictator over eleven thousand years prior. It was no wonder why she was protected as she was. Two Winglies as guard and chances are she knew what they were and they knew what she was. He was not sure about the older human though. He had to have some pretty special talents to be in such close company with the oracle. Lloyd remembered his teachings when he was younger, especially on such people as oracles. The trait about them that stood out here was that they were incredibly picky creatures, especially about those who they chose to protect them.

It was then he noticed the people around the wake the woman and her companions had left. People had stopped to watch after them, whispering almost excitedly. Even on his side of the causeway, they were murmuring to one another about her. She seemed to either catch a lot of attention or she was popular. He wasn't sure which it was at first, so he utilized his trick again and focused in on one conversation nearby.

"Oh wow! This fish is only going for a couple of gold per pound?"

"Indeed! Freshest fish this side of Tiberoa!"

Wrong conversation.

Ah. Here was one he was looking for.

"Did you hear? The oracle from Mille Seseau is off her mountain finally and here in Lohan."

"Yes, I actually saw her. It's amazing, isn't it? I wonder if she's here for Sandora or Basil. Perhaps this is the mediator we've truly been looking for."

"I heard it was Sandora. Doel called for her to tell him his future and if there were any way she could change his fate."

So that's what the Emperor of Sandora was so secretive about as of recent, was it? Hm. Perhaps it was time to eliminate the old human; he was starting to gain a will of his own. It was something Lloyd expected of Albert, but Doel had seemed more sedated and considerably easier to control because of it.

While Lloyd had a considerable amount of questions concerning this oracle figure it seemed of which everyone knew but he knew nothing (which was really no surprise to even him, given his roving lifestyle), he determined it best to learn more about her when he was not quite so … busy. Instead, he contented himself in completing the task he had come for to begin with.

Upon entering the inn, the innkeeper treated him to actual words, the start of this truly unexpected information gathering escapade Lloyd found himself in on accident. The expression on his face was the same as before though, the words none too kind either. Ah well. Lloyd could deal.

"Best watch any noise you plan on making. The oracle from Mille Seseau shares a wall with your room."

Despite the rudeness in the man's voice, Lloyd seemed inwardly ecstatic to the point that he almost lost the collected façade on the outside. "I will keep that in mind. Do you mind horribly if I ask of this oracle? Where it comes from, what it's here in Lohan for?"

Lloyd thought he would be ignored and prepared to leave for his room in disappointment. Once more, to his surprise, he got a confused look from the man. "You mean you haven't heard of her?"

The Wingly shrugged at this. "I travel a lot and tend to stay out of crowded cities or cities in general as often as possible."

It seemed a legitimate and accepted explanation, for the innkeeper continued. "She comes out of Mille Seseau, supposedly in a small shrine complex on the summit of the Mountain of the Mortal Dragon there just east of Deningrad. As to the nature of her visit, she was on her way to Sandora. Seems to be the common rumor, anyway. I don't know myself. Just saw her and to tell the truth, I expected an old hag, not some pretty young thing. Didn't talk to her, but talked to one of her three companions. Funny thing, two of them have the same hair as you do and they are way under the age to have silver yet. Anyway, she was supposed to be in Sandora some time tonight, but someone said that she had a vision and came here instead."

Lloyd listened intently. Most of it seemed to be speculated on only rumors. All he could pick out that was actual truth was that she was from Mille Seseau and most likely truth that she had been headed to Sandora, most likely the capital, Kazas, for some reason.

When the innkeeper had finished, he quirked an eyebrow. "That all I can do for you?"

Lloyd nodded. "Yes. Thank you. I think I shall retire for the night then and I promise that this oracle will have an equally peaceful night on my behalf."

This seemed to lighten the old human's attitude; the look he gave wasn't quite as suspicious as Lloyd left the lobby to make his way to the lower-level rooms. His was a simple one-room setup with a bed and a fireplace for warm comfort at night. He was certain that the other room on this level was a suite made for at least four people. Her room was on the other side of the wall behind the head of his bed.

For a second, he stood in front of it. That first gaze she had sent his way had sent shivers up his back, the good and bad kinds. He had gained an instant pull toward her and an urge to protect while at the same time, holding an even deeper more aggressive calling to cut her down where she stood.

Protect or kill? And why these feelings all of a sudden?

After obsessively checking the door locks, Lloyd made himself comfortable for the night and plopped down on the soft mattress of his bed, twirling these thoughts in his mind and wondering if this oracle who had instilled these … instincts in him was mulling over the same thoughts that he was.

It was some time before he left it undecided, figuring that with the way fate worked, he would learn why he felt this way. With more effort than he thought necessary, he pushed the thoughts plaguing his mind back before settling to sleep.

Unbeknownst to him, her head rested on the other side of the wall, directly next to his. It was going to be a long night.


	3. Premonitions and Revelations

**Chapter 2**

**S**omething about the man on the stairs had set Saiyjone's blood to boiling. It was an odd sensation to her; she had never felt the Mark of Madness branded into the skin of her throat flare up like such, that which was hidden beneath the silver cuff welded there. It had only felt barely itchy at any point before.

Draconic instinct dictated two possible paths when something caused discomfort. One was to destroy it, to prevent the discomfort from happening ever again. That was a part of the more feral instinct that still survived in the first lineage's minds, despite their efforts to detain it fully. The second path was more civil and strategic; try to find out what said discomfort was about. From there, it would be easier to think of a way to stop it from happening again.

She had hid her throat burning fairly well, barely wincing from it if at all when it had happened. Zevahn hadn't noticed it in the slightest as he appeared behind her. He would have been frightened for her if he knew that she felt even the slightest twinge of pain. He did look over her shoulder to lay almost protective eyes on the one the dragoness was locking gaze with.

"That's the other one, is he? We had best be careful and watch our step then." Zevahn had whispered to her. His words snapped her from her trance.

"Indeed, we should." she told him, breaking eye contact with the other.

Zevahn fiddled with her veil, checking to see that it properly covered. "Let us continue on, then. It seems your presence here has caused quite the stir amongst the locals." He sounded amused as he said this.

Her ears tuned into the murmurings. Even if her name was unknown, Saiyjone knew they knew who she was. 'The oracle from Mille Seseau' pretty much summed it up, in her opinion.

"So it seems." she answered, though it was absent-minded. Something had unnerved the dragon maid about the other Wingly in their midst. She knew he was one because she had picked up his scent. While individuals held their own distinct smell, it was difficult to hide the scent of the race to which one was born. Either this other had been raised by Winglies or he was one, more the latter given his appearance.

For the time being, she decided to let it lie. No point in running her thought processes dry trying to figure out this newcomer's race or purpose. She simply followed Zevahn's nudging her off toward the inn, leaving the presence of the stranger behind.

She barely remembered walking through the front doors, floating as though with some dire task on her mind toward the stairs her escort lead her to. She caught the innkeeper's awed nod of his head in greeting to her, bowing her head and shoulders toward him in polite return. She also returned a bow to the little maid who was wandering about with clean bed linens. From the shape of her face and color of her eyes, Saiyjone guessed she was related to the innkeeper in some manner.

Once both oracle and guard were at the door, they waited in silence for the reminder of their travelling party. The dragon maid could not seem to get her encounter off her mind, much as she wanted to. When Rivet and Ankou arrived at the door, laughing and joking about chucking her throwing stones at passersby for no apparent reason other than to see how many odd noises they could get out of them, they quieted down and resumed their positions near her.

Zevahn looked about before finally unlocking the door and opening it, sliding inside. It was an extra precaution; he was making sure that no one had been inside or was still lingering within the confines of the room beyond. Most would find it a silly habit, but the four of them knew just how crucial it could really be. When he had searched the entirety of the chamber beyond the door, he poked his head out and looked around once more before beckoning the rest in.

With Rivet to her left and Ankou at her right, the remaining three entered, the door shut and bolted behind them. Bags and cases were set on one side of the room, out of the way. This was their usual room when visiting Lohan, proven with the well-cared for linens, four beds set along two of the walls, and that the room itself was obsessively clean. Everything was done in silence with Rivet folding back blanket covers on the central bed, the one away from both the door and the single window on the wall they had placed their baggage. Ankou was filling a metal porcelain-lined basin with water and lighting a small fire beneath it as a bath.

It was Zevahn who broke the silence. "Did that other harm you at all, My Lady? Mentally or physically?"

Rivet stopped instantly what he was doing and looked up, followed by Ankou briefly glancing up from the fire he was attending. Saiyjone merely shook her head. There was no need for them to worry about her. This was her own journey, her own discovery, and she needed to learn to take care of things on her own. After all, the sheltered life she had lived thus far was only going to come back to bite her if she could not take care of herself.

"He did not, I assure you. We merely looked at one another. There is no need for you to worry for my well-being." she answered, hoping that might deter them from continuing to ask.

"Who are we talking about?" Rivet asked then, finishing his original task of pulling the blankets back and turning instead to removing the veil and shawl from the dragon maid.

Saiyjone was about to tell him that it was no one he needed concern himself with, but his twin broke that. "The other Wingly noticed her."

"So there_ is_ another Wingly in Lohan?"

"There is, but he is not a threat." The oracle rose to her feet, looking directly into Zevahn's eyes. The galaxies made of tiny particles of different colors seemed to swirl and burst with the natural fluxing of the irises. "I mean it. All we did was look at one another. There is nothing to worry about, Zevahn. You need to calm down."

"I could have sworn…" Zevahn started before he was interrupted.

"There is nothing you need to concern yourself with, Zevahn. Take my word when I say he only looked at me and I at him. The day's journey has been long and hard and the events that have transpired have only left you paranoid. Stand down and take a rest."

By then, her voice was almost trembling. Not with fear but with anger in knowing that a guard should be trying to outdo her authority. She had hired him out of trust of him and his brother, not the other way around, and she was bound and determined to take care of this herself.

"My Lady Dragon…"

Ankou was a welcome intrusion, Saiyjone turning her gaze toward him. A nod to the old human acknowledged his presence to her.

"Your bath is ready and Rivy has dug out your soap stones."

That small warm smile crept across her face again. "Thank you. Where would I be without you two?"

She left Zevahn then, who sat on his designated bed and remained silent. If one could read his face, he was obviously contemplating if what she said was true and then wondering which bag held his book.

Rivet had not dared touch on the same subject his brother had been so foolish to continue pushing. Rather, he went along with the new task at hand, carefully pulling jewelry and robes from his charge's body to ready her for her bath. The only things that could not be removed were those shackles and the welded collar at her throat. When fully revealed, it was hard to ignore the faint iridescent sheen that spread over her pale flesh. It was not noticeable when she was clothed, oddly enough, just when she was stripped of covering.

With the help of both Wingly and human, she was settled into the tub and left to bathe herself. While she was washing the grime from the day's travelling off her body, Rivet was readying her night-wear, Ankou holding a towel near the bath to be there for her when she finished and exited.

She gave a, "Ready…" when she had finished, stabilizing herself on the side of the tub basin until Ankou came forward. He offered his hand, she took it and allowed his help to bring her back out and took the towel he handed her once she was out of the water.

Once she was handed off to Rivet for dressing after she was done drying, Ankou pulled a cork plug in the bottom of the tub. A pipe was connected to the small hole in the bottom, acting as a drain. Really, the pipe in turn connected to the storm drains for the building, the filth carried from the tub to the street below.

Saiyjone had finished drying as much as she could, Rivet tugging a single silver-white silk nightgown over her. It covered a considerable amount; spaghetti-strapped and falling in a single piece to her ankles. A robe the same color and fabric was added to cover the nightgown and she tied it closed around her. Bracelets, anklets, rings, and necklaces that had been removed earlier were set into a small wooden box and put on a small table at her bedside. In the morning, they would be replaced before she went back into public again.

Rivet had her settled on one side of her mattress, digging about in their luggage until he had found what he needed next, pulling a silver-wrought hairbrush and an ivory comb with silver-set designs across it from the bag that held them originally. He plopped behind her and began running the horse-hair bristles through her hair, using the comb when he encountered a tangle. At first, there was no conversation.

"So. You saw the other Wingly in Lohan today?" Rivet asked then, breaking any silence that clung to the air.

"Oh please. Tell me you are not going to bring this up again." Saiyjone practically hissed back. She hated when people picked up once-dead conversation subjects.

Rivet shook his head. "Oh no. I'm not accusing you or him of anything, My Lady. I am aware that you are your own person and I do not wish to take that liberty from you. I am curious how this supposed encounter went, is all."

She knew how he worked. Unlike Zevahn, who was very blunt and straight-forward with things, Rivet was more aloof and subtle about his approaches. He was gathering information without seeming too forward about it. When Saiyjone wanted something from any human city near her shrine, she had Rivet get it for her. After all, his attitude allowed him to befriend the inhabiting humans much easier than his brother. He was also able to blend in easier because of it.

"Well, I saw him across the walk, he saw me, we looked at one another, then Zevahn brought me to the inn." she told the prying Wingly. "That is all that happened."

Rivet nodded his head slowly. "No unnerving feelings at all?" he asked. If she didn't know any better, she might guess there was a small subtle tone of slyness under his voice. She shook it off to paranoia after Zevahn had pushed her earlier.

"None whatsoever. Why?"

Rivet shrugged, continuing on brushing her gold locks. "No reason. Was just curious, is all." he replied before popping off her bed and smoothing out the blankets again. "Well, I'm done here and it's time for bed. We have a busy day tomorrow."

The dragoness chuckled a bit, but scooted back to lay her head on the pillows at the head of the bed, Rivet pulling the blankets up to her chin. "I hardly think watching a contest can be considered busy."

He gave her a warm smile of his own. "It has been a long day otherwise. I think sleep for all of us is well-deserved, My Lady. I will awaken you at dawn to get ready for the day, as usual."

"Thank you, Rivet. Have a good night."

"A good night to you as well, My Lady. Sleep well."

With that, Saiyjone turned to her side, curled up in her usual fashion, and soon fell to sleep. Once she was gone from the waking world, Rivet turned to his brother.

Zevahn, who had found his book and appeared nose-deep in the thing, asked, "What do you think of this Wingly, brother?" without looking up from the pages.

Rivet shook his head. "I think something is up with this one. She is not usually so defensive."

The other nodded his head. "I believe you are correct. What she fails to realize is that while she has known us for many years, we have known her for just as long. We know almost everything about her. Her behavior, her habits, her pet peeves. Everything."

Rivet merely nodded back. "I understand. It is best, then, that we keep an eye on her for a little while."

Zevahn returned the nod. "For now, though, it is best we both get a little bit of sleep. I have a very uneasy feeling concerning tomorrow. I would really rather not be caught off-guard and fatigued." He marked the page in his book and set it aside before settling in for bed. "Sleep well, Rivet. I shall see you on the morrow."

Rivet chuckled and settled into his bed as well after turning the oil lamps' wicks far enough to dim the light in the room enough. Ankou had fallen asleep shortly after Saiyjone had bedded down, the younger Wingly looking at him as he answered his brother.

"Good night, Zevahn. I hope tomorrow's journey fares much better than it did today."

* * *

Saiyjone slept fitfully. However, on the outside, she did not look restless. Rather, she looked peaceful. Inwardly, on the other hand, there was chaos.

_She dreamt of raging fires, swallowing towns and cities. There were thousands of dead or dying people about her, maybe millions, crawling through wreckage and the holocausts. She was not sure, only sure that there was a lot of blood as the air was saturated with the smell. The Mark at her throat burned. It felt like it was searing her flesh._

_ Someone was screaming. Someone else was crying. Her breath was heavy, her heart pounding like a caged animal in her chest. These were minor details, though. Her attention was on the one holding the sword._

_ Wingly._

_ There was a small twinge of pain in her abdomen. She dared herself to look down. The other's sword … the blade was run through her completely at an angle, no doubt hitting several vital organs. Once she noticed it, she realized how much it really hurt. _

_A groan escaped her lips, her hands rose and clasped shakily about the sword's blade as though a futile attempt to try and push it out of her or slide herself off. Really, she did it more for stability. She glared up at the Wingly holding the sword, her vision blurring a bit before sharpening again._

"_What have you to say for yourself, Dragon?" her impaler asked. "Tearing cities and lives to nothing more than shreds. Your rampage ends here."_

_She laughed, one hand reaching upward to weakly snag the other's shirt collar, trying to pull him down to her eye level. "You … you underestimate me, Toriyani. Underestimate all of us. This power … bestowed on my people by Soa. We can't keep this from exploding forever." A cough wracked her body. She was vaguely aware that there was blood expelled with it. "Eventually … we will tear this world apart by the will of that sadistic vain god you all look up to. If we don't, you will certainly be manipulated into doing it yourself. Look … look at what it did to us, the first lineage."_

_The Wingly was silent, one which hung heavy with a feeling of both knowing, but also of fear. She continued._

"_For … for your own ignorance, I curse you. For not thinking about whether your precious god … for not thinking that it left even the smallest of our hatchlings out. I curse you." A pause was given to catch her breath. This was considerably harder than she originally thought and those last spitting syllables took more out of her than she wanted. "May my offspring carry this accursed mark. May we … deem this world unfit in the eyes of Soa and raze it to the ground. And may your offspring … may they be charged, no matter their age, with tearing mine down. I hope your blood learns from mine to no longer … be … ignorant in the eyes of this cruel world."_

_She felt tired. "I curse … your blood…"_

_With that, the world began growing dark. Her hand slipped from him, he stepped back away from her as though burned, leaving the sword impaling her. She stumbled back away from him, fell to her knees. Everything went black, all sounds dulling away to nothing but a faint ringing. Even that was gone after a moment, then a sensation pierced through that heavy darkness._

_The mark began to burn…_

She snapped awake. It was still dark, very faint light cast about the room in Lohan from the lowered wicks in the oil lamps. Everyone was still asleep; she could hear the steady breathing emitted from every single one of them. Ankou to her left, Rivet to her right, Zevahn nearest the door.

However, that was not what concerned her the most. Here, everything was as it should have been … save for that her left hand was resting palm-side on the wall above her head and the mark at her throat was throbbing.

It made her alert in an instant; it was a sign. As an oracle, she was trained to read such things. There was something on the other side of the wall here, something that would apparently aid her in her personal search concerning the Wingly on the stairs. Her right hand rose to rub the cuff over the mark, her left was pulled from the wall. If she was going to take care of this by herself, then now was no better a time to start.

Last she noticed, Zevahn had the room key. Silently, she rose from her bed and slid across the floor to his bedside. Sure enough, the faint light from the lamp nearest him caught the surface of the key. She snatched it with no scratch or other sound on the table beside him, moving like the waning night itself for the door and leaving behind no sound save a very faint rustle of silk on silk.

If being protected and sheltered had taught her anything, it was to cover her steps. Before she dared open the door, she made to check that everyone else in her company was fast asleep. There was still no noise outside steady breathing and the light snore that she knew was Ankou and his breathing issues. That was good.

With that, Saiyjone quietly unlocked the door and slipped out of it. A fast inspection down the hall once she was certain the door was shut quietly again confirmed her suspicions of there being a room on the other side of the wall she had woken up to find her hand against. She gave the hallway and part of the stairs what lead from the upper levels to the current another once over before moving for the other door.

Once she stood in front of it, however, she hesitated. If there was someone in there, what was she going to say to them? She normally didn't have an issue when it came to this sort of thing, but than again, she was also backed up by the twins and Ankou as well. What if they were particularly hostile toward her for coming to them at this hour of the night? Her determination and resolve suddenly started to crumble, questions without answers fluttering around in her head until eventually, she came to the conclusion that perhaps this was a bad idea. Maybe sheltered lives should remain sheltered…

No. That was not how she thought. Who cared if she wanted to talk to someone she did not know at this hour? By Soa, she was going to talk to them and that mental counter-assault seemed to magnetize her courage all back to her.

It seemed the god had heard that thought, as well as all the others before it, and answered her silent prayers. She had not heard him coming down the stairs as she raised her hand, shaky though it was, to ready knocking on the door.

"A good early morning to you, Lady Oracle. What brings you to my door at such ungodly hours?"

His words gave her a start. She jumped straight up and around, putting her back to the door to spy the other stepping between two stairs, a two-stair gap between one foot and the other with the right foot leading.

She could feel his eyes on her once more, scanning her head to toe and back again. Either he was looking for weapons or he was eyeing her. From what she had witnessed of the Wingly in the brief moments she had seen him, she would easily assume it was the former. To her, him checking to make sure she didn't carry weaponry was a bit more practical than the other.

Once he seemed satisfied that she carried nothing particularly threatening to him, he finished descending the stairs. She still had not found a response to say back to his greeting, her voice caught somewhere between throat and mind. Her mouth still wanted to say something, and it floundered about with no noise coming from it. He seemed to notice it as well, walking up slowly toward her with a sort of carefree smirk on his face.

"What are you? A fish? Or maybe you're one of those mute oracles I've heard about. You know. The ones who can command air and wind to make illusions?"

He was confident. Very confident. And it made her mad to know that he possessed such when she could barely find her voice. That is … until he wondered about her race, joking or not.

"For your information, I'm a dragon, Wingly." she retorted back, but kept her voice low.

He seemed both surprised and peeved that she was able to respond back, if the fact that his lips thinned just slightly around the smirk was proof enough. "If you are a dragon then that makes you first lineage. First lineage dragons are dead. Extinct. Don't play with me."

Finally, she had a foothold. "So are Winglies, don't you know."

It was a good retort, apparently; his face fell just slightly, one hand cupping his chin as though thinking on her revelation. "Hm. Touché…" he muttered before turning back to her. "I suppose it's not too impossible; oracles _were_ supposed to be wiped out completely during the Campaign." His own response made her lips purse in annoyance. Touché on his part as well. "Well then. What does a dragon of the first lineage want with me? Especially one of oracle lineage as well?"

Here, he'd turned to look at her again. She noticed his eyes for the first time and they made her draw breath sharply (not a gasp, but not just inhale either); golden yellow outlined in rusted red. This seemed to leak into the gold portion of his eyes, streaked through from the outer ring to barely touch his pupils. Their odd coloration seemed only to add to the mystique of the man, complimenting the typical aerodynamic frame of his own bloodline and the tousled mess of platinum-silver hair that fell in uneven spikes to his chin.

Rather, it was reminiscent to her of one of her younger brothers trying to cut his hair himself and failing. The memory caused a small spot of laughter which, in turn, produced a look of mild confusion on the Wingly's face.

She finished laughing then. "Pardon. Just something amusing concerning your face." She caught herself a bit late for that, didn't she? She added shortly after, "Something I remembered that it reminded me of."

That playful smirk crossed his face again and he bent down to put himself at eye level with her. "Well, if I'm ugly, don't hide it."

He was playful. Aloof. Why had she been afraid that he would turn her away or hate her for coming to him?

"However, your little trip down Memory Lane isn't exactly answering as to why you're looking for me."

He had a point. But she had been building up to this moment. Once she was relaxed fully, she finally answered him quite seriously. "Because I would like to know if you woke up not too long ago with your hand against the wall."

The playfulness all but died from his face, his voice, his general demeanor. He was now serious, as well. "The left one. Why?"

"I would like to note to you that I, as well, woke up out of a dead sleep with my left hand placed against the wall."

She did not have a chance to continue. He looked toward the stairs, then down the hall in the other direction toward her room. He'd stepped forward and pulled out his room key all in one fluid movement, unlocked the door, and opened it. It had all happened so quickly that the dragoness stumbled backward into the room before being steadied by her new companion grabbing a hold of her lower arm. He let her go once she was on her feet proper and locked the room door behind him, keeping himself between her and the door.

She had barely any chance to ask him anything; he was right on top of it before she could start. "You had that dream then, as well, did you? The one behind that old tradition my people started?"

"I did." she answered, holding her ground in front of him and looking up. Why did she have to be so short? He was at least a half foot taller than she was… "Did it frighten you?"

"Enough that I woke up and needed a walk." he replied before deciding that he no longer needed to hold his position in front of the door and striding across the floor. He was strangely open about the whole thing and some subconscious feral instinct set her hair on end because of it. "Mostly because my family name … well, it was mentioned in that dream. Was that a genetic memory? Or was it spawned by something else?"

He turned about to face her and she felt his eyes on the cuff welded around her throat. Once again, the mark began to burn, a searing pain that felt like it and the flesh around it was on fire. It was enough that this time, she could not hold in the whimper, her hands rising at once to cover it in hopes that they might barricade his gaze. It wasn't the playful look she'd seen earlier, either. This one was confused mixed with a very faint undertone of hate. However, once that hate appeared to melt away, the burning sensation also faded.

"I've been wondering what all that is for." he wondered aloud, keeping his distance while indicating the shackles around her wrists and the collar at her throat. "It's to keep you under control, isn't it? A demur little dragon to face the world like a caged beast whipped into civility."

"How … _dare _you make accusations based on my appearance!" She had not meant to raise her voice at all, but she felt this was an appropriate time as ever to do so. "For all you know, they're for decoration."

"Amusing how mere decoration has to be welded in place, then. Not unless you are that devoted to it to keep it on you at all times. By the way, those characters mean…"

"I know very well what they mean, as much as you do!"

There was a pause between the warring parties. What had begun as a civil conversation had turned into an argument about something or other concerning the other between them. He spoke up finally.

"I'm right then. You are a captive of your shrine. No will of your own to really go by, you do what you're told and when you're told to do it. It's truly amazing you came to me of your own volition."

He had no idea how much those words actually stung. They hit home and he couldn't have been more right. She waited for him to turn his back to her and look out the window behind him before biting her bottom lip and feeling tears well up in her eyes at those words. Soa knew she was grateful when he changed the subject.

"Those boys you have protecting you. They're Wingly as well, aren't they?" Something about the tone of his voice told her that he knew already, but she decided to humor him anyway.

"Two of them are. The third is human."

He nodded sagely then gained that thoughtful look again. She saw his reflection in the window; his brow was furrowing. Her curiosity was now peaked, her tears and his hurtful words now forgotten once she wiped her eyes dry. Something did not feel quite right and when she attempted to see what he was seeing, he would merely look at her creeping reflection and stop her dead in her tracks with that cold stare.

"They may have a chance then. I cannot say the same about your old human though. My condolences in advance."

There was just something in his voice that unnerved her. "What do you mean?" she asked him, though she could not keep her own trembling voice under control right then.

"Were there any ill words or feelings before all four of you bedded down?"

"No. None. We were all pleasant with one another."

"Do they know you're here, with me now?"

"N-no, they do not. Please. What's going on? What's wrong?" The suspense of the moment almost drove the dragon-maid to madness. By that point, she was stuttering and sounded frantic and she did not know why. The air felt heavy all of a sudden, she realized that she was having a hard time actually breathing.

He turned around to face her, backlit by the light off the Moon That Never Sets and what few lamps were lit in the streets below. His next words held no feeling in them, an eerie sound what seemed otherworldly spilling forth from his lips.

"I wish we had met under different circumstances, Lady Oracle, but now seems as good a time as ever. I don't know how they got in passed the gate, but they are here now and no doubt mean to kill you if you resist any attempts by them to bring you before Doel in Kazas.

"My name is Lloyd Vierul Toriyani. I am about to become your new guardian."


End file.
